


Ssslither

by Erimthar



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dream Sex, F/F, Light Bondage, Masturbation, Telepathic Sex, Tickling, Voyeurism, Xenophilia, lizard tongue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 14:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2195604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erimthar/pseuds/Erimthar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bo brings home a sexy new playmate. Kenzi can't get her out of her mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ssslither

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set during season 1, probably between "Dead Lucky" and "Food For Thought." Spoilers up to that point.

**Kenzi’s Very Private Journal**  – August 21, 2010  
  
 _Kenzi's Rules For Living, Number 283:_  Never act like a douchebag in a coffee shop. Because a) the barista will spit in your coffee, and b) I will feel pretty good about stealing your iPad. And so, I got to spend this afternoon playing with a shiny new toy, and going through the files and apps Blackberry Headset Asshole left on it. Then I logged into his Facebook page and made a post from him that said:  
  
 _"FACT: Anal sex doesn't feel nearly as good for women as my porn collection would have you believe."_  
  
And then I deleted all his smut and shitty Limp Bizkit mp3's and important documents from his job, and loaded up a word processor app. Now I have a way to start journaling again without having to resort to pen and paper like my ancestors in the Old Country did. Just in time, too, because I had an interesting evening last night.  
  
Now, I’ve gotten used to the fact that life with Bo is pretty much a form of interactive pornography. Unfortunately her superpowered hormones are not accompanied by super-strength or crazy ninja skillz, so she winds up getting hurt a lot. Not that she's bad in a fight -- she can handle herself against the typical human mook. It's the Fae nasties (and the occasional firearm) that tend to give her trouble. And every time she gets hurt, she has to bone a fellow Fae (Dyson, usually) so she can suck out part of their chi (a kind of soul-juice, I guess) and heal herself with it. I wish she’d learn how to use nunchucks or something, so she isn’t always getting her hot ass kicked, but she never listens to me.  
  
Last night I was standing on our beer table (we don’t drink much coffee) using a broom handle to poke up in the ceiling of the bombed-out craphole we call a home, when I heard Bo come in the front door.  
  
“What are you poking at?” she asked.  
  
“I think we have squirrels. I keep getting sunflower seeds dropped on me.”  
  
“Great. I wonder how many people have to worry about squirrel infestations in their living rooms.”  
  
“Actually, I’m more worried about waking up one morning with a wrecking ball coming through the wall. We really should think about getting an actual place, Bo Diddley. I’d hate to lose the bohemian ambiance we have here, but it might be nice to have fewer lead paint flakes in my breakfast cereal.”  
  
It was then I looked down and saw that Bo wasn’t alone.  
  
“Naomi, I’d like you to meet my friend Kenzi,” Bo said. “Kenzi, this is Naomi. She’s an exotic dancer.”  
  
“Stripper,” Naomi corrected.  
  
“Naomi will be spending the night,” Bo informed me.  
  
“Oh,” I said. “ _Oh!_  Well, um... I guess congratulations are in order, then.”  
  
“So I’ve been led to believe,” Naomi said with a sultry sidelong glance at Bo, which Bo returned with a grin.  
  
Bo's new pal was about six feet tall and built like some teenage boy’s favorite whackoff fantasy. Her legs were regulation Pro Cheerleader, accentuated below by a pair of Timberland hiking boots and gray wool socks, and above by khaki shorts. Her tie-top struggled to contain a fairly enormous pair of jugs, and her hair... well, wasn’t there. She was completely bald.  
  
She had smooth olive skin. And by that, I mean that her skin was the color of an olive. Green. This chick was just flat-out  _green_.  
  
“Uh, nice to meet you, Naomi,” I said to her, trying not to gape too much. “Interesting look. Is that body paint?”  
  
“Nope. That’s just body.”  
  
“Oooh. So Fae, then.”  
  
“Light Fae,” she said with a grin. “Very light.”  
  
She took off her sunglasses then, and I saw that the pupils of her gold-colored eyes were slitted top to bottom, like a snake’s.  
  
I stared. “Wow. That's... very striking. In a mildly terrifying sort of way.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“So, you take off your clothes for a living,” I said, and winced at how that came out. This conversation was just getting better and better.  
  
“Well, for a start. My stage name is Ssslither. Three esses. I’ve been dancing at Club Euryale. It’s a Fae establishment.”  
  
“Fae have strip clubs?”  
  
“Oh yes. It’s neutral ground, though. You just can’t have a successful Fae strip club if you don’t admit the Darks.”  
  
“Well, that stands to reason. So  _Ssslither_ is because of this snake motif you’ve got going, right?”  
  
She didn’t answer that. Just grinned, stuck out her tongue and licked her eyebrows.  
  
I’ll type that again:  _she stuck out her tongue and licked her fucking eyebrows_. And she didn’t lick them one at a time. She licked the right one with the right-hand fork of her tongue, and the left one with... well, you get the idea.  
  
“Gulp,” I observed.  
  
“Yeah,” Bo said. “So you can see where this is going tonight.”  
  
“Fourteen inches,” Naomi said to me. “I can see by the look on your face you were wondering.”  
  
“Guh-wha? In your pants?” (Okay, stupid question, but right then nothing would have surprised me about Naomi.)  
  
“Uh, no. In my mouth. My tongue is fourteen inches long, fully extended. And it’s prehensile.”  
  
“Pre-what-sile?” Damn, I sounded like a village idiot, but... I was a little distracted.  
  
“Prehensile. That means I can do this.”  
  
She leaned over toward me, wrapped her tongue around the broom handle I was still holding, and yanked it right out of my hand.  
  
“ _Ho_ -ly mother of shit,” I said. “Can you catch flies with that thing?”  
  
Not the most tactful of questions. Why do I have so few friends, again?  
  
Naomi dropped the broom handle and caught it, then handed it back to me. “I’ve caught plenty of flies with it. Button flies are kind of challenging, though. Zippers are easier.”  
  
“I... think I need a beer,” I said. “Does anyone else want a beer? Light beer for a Light Fae?”  
  
“No thanks,” Naomi grinned. “In fact, which way is your bathroom? I’ve been told it’s best to empty your bladder before having sex with a succubus.”  
  
I just pointed mutely.  
  
While she was off doing her business, I gave Bo a silent but thorough visual inspection, walking all the way around her. She was dressed in one of her favorite Hottie Mode outfits: black miniskirt, black stockings, black thigh-high boots, and a blue blouse unbuttoned down to OMG territory. I didn’t see any sign of blood or injury on her.  
  
“What?” she demanded.  
  
“You don’t look like you need any emergency healing. And this girl you’re about to  _ssslither_ into bed with is about as far from Dyson as you can get and still be on the same planet.”  
  
“I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that Dyson and I are not exclusive. And no, I don’t need any healing. This is pleasure, not business. Naomi is a sweet, intelligent girl with an amazing body. I can’t even count the ways she turns me on.”  
  
“You can count up to fourteen, can’t you?”  
  
Bo rolled her eyes. “Not gonna say that’s not right near the top of the list. But just look at her. She’s such a babe.”  
  
“Hmmm. She has the tits of Salma Hayek. Check. The legs of Kate Beckinsale. Check. The skin of Kermit the Frog...”  
  
“That’s mean. Naomi is a type of Salamander. I think the green skin is very sexy.”  
  
“ _Salamander?_  What are you going to do, put her in a mason jar and feed her leaves?”  
  
Bo sighed. “Salamander is a species of Fae, Kenzi. You’re really gonna get yourself in trouble sooner or later, if you make wise-ass remarks like that to the wrong person.”  
  
“I always prefer to get in trouble sooner. Later is too hard to schedule.”  
  
Naomi reappeared at that moment, looking fresh and chipper and more than a little horny. Like a horny toad. I stifled a laugh.  
  
“I’m ready when you are, milady,” she said to Bo.  
  
“I’ve been ready since I saw you do that mirror dance.”  
  
“Huh. That was almost three hours ago. I’m sorry to keep you waiting so long.”  
  
“You know what they say. Good things come to those who wait.”  
  
“...And good things wait for those who come.”  
  
They both giggled. I gagged.  
  
Bo took Naomi by the hand and led her to the stairway that went up to her room. “Be good,” she called to me over her shoulder. “Because I certainly won’t.” Hand in hand, they practically ran up the stairs.  
  
I shook my head and muttered things to myself. Went over and sat down on the couch, propping my feet up on the beer table and flipping through a six-month old issue of  _Cosmo_ for like the thirtieth time. I made a mental note to make the rounds of waiting rooms and steal some more recent reading material, ASAP.  
  
I could hear Bo and Naomi talking and laughing upstairs. Couldn’t really make out any words, but the acoustics of this house aren’t very favorable for private succubus business up there. The last time Bo had revenge sex, with that psycho Fury and her boy-toy, I thought they'd come down through the ceiling. I wondered if it would be similar this time. Bo and Dyson really both needed to be smacked upside their skulls. Again.  
  
I heard two loud clunks of heavy things hitting the floor up there. Naomi’s boots? Bo’s? Must be Naomi’s. Bo’s thigh-highs took longer than that to remove. Then there was a loud jangly clank. Naomi’s belt.  
  
I knew I should probably go out for the evening, and come back when things would be quieter. If Bo was in particularly fine form tonight, though, an all-night rave might be in order.  
  
Things were quiet for a few minutes, and then I heard a long, shivery whimper from up above. Naomi. Too high-pitched to be Bo.  
  
I tried to remember the last time I got laid. Then I tried harder. Went to the fridge and got a beer, because I really did need a drink. God, it was depressing. Six months ago. Eight?  
  
More whimpering, and squeaking bedsprings no doubt caused by a wriggling green torso. I assumed Naomi was naked by now. Wondered if Bo was.  
  
Wondered  _why_ I was wondering these things.  
  
Naomi took about three minutes to get to her first orgasm, and after that there was about ninety seconds or so between her second, third, and fourth. She sounded like Bjork singing when she came. Or maybe Yoko Ono.  
  
I couldn’t hear Bo at all, so I assumed she was busy with a mouthful of Naomi. Was she really that amazing in bed, or did her succubus fairy dust just make it seem like it? An aphrodisiac that could, and did, kill us lesser mortals dead.  
  
Naomi had four very loud orgasms in a row, and then I heard Bo for the first time. At first it was those soulful, rhythmic moans and groans, like she makes when she’s humping Dyson. Then she gasped and screamed.  
  
 _Ohmygod no wait I can’t... I can’t... GAAAAAHHHHDDDD!!! Oh please... oh please..._  
  
What the hell? Was lizard girl making Bo  _beg for mercy?_  
  
She sure as hell was. I don’t know why I was so surprised. Bo sounded just like a woman with a fourteen-inch tongue up her cooter.  
  
“Fuck it,” I said to myself. “I always say, if you can’t beat ‘em... beat off.”  
  
(Actually, I never say that. This was the first time.)  
  
You know the rule, right? Well of course you do, because you’re me, or you wouldn't be reading this.  _Kenzi's Rules For Living, #17_ : Everything’s fair in stroke-off fantasies. Just because you fantasize about a woman or two, doesn’t mean you’re a lesbian. Just because you picture yourself going to town on your best friend doesn’t mean you’re actually into your best friend in real life. Like Vegas, whatever happens inside your head stays there, and means nothing outside it. It’s Masturbation Law.  
  
So I unzipped my pants and wriggled them down to my ankles, sent my thong down after, and settled back in the couch for a little “me time.”  
  
Naomi definitely seemed to have taken charge of the situation upstairs, and whatever she was doing, Bo was liking it. I’d never heard her make those kinds of sounds before.  
  
I was liking it, too.  
  
I imagined what Naomi might look like naked. Did she have any pubic hair? Doubtful. Were her nipples bright red, like pimentos? Also doubtful, but would be awesome.  
  
As I got busy, I pictured the way her huge boobs would be swinging and jiggling as she went down on Bo. And I pictured Bo on her back, writhing in ecstasy, swimming in sweat, her hands clutching the back of Naomi’s bald head, her creamy, muscular white legs wrapped around those green shoulders, flexing and squirming, toes curling and uncurling...  
  
Yeah, that's the stuff. Right about there I threw my head back, clenched my teeth real hard so I didn’t make too much noise, and busted a fucking nut.  
  
When the little floating sparklies cleared from my head I quickly realized I was still hungry, and the sounds from up above weren’t getting any less sexy, so I dove right into a second helping.  
  
This time I pictured myself in Bo’s place. In fact, I was lying on her sheets that were still sweaty-wet from where she’d been just a couple minutes earlier. Just for fun, I pictured myself tied up, buck naked, spread-eagled, my ankles and wrists roped to the bedposts, so I was helpless. I hate being helpless in real life, but... Masturbation Law (see above).  
  
Naomi was kneeling between my wide-open legs, leaning over my body and grinning wickedly. I noted with interest that she did not in fact have any pubic hair, and her nipples were dark green. So no pimentos. As I watched, she stuck out that magic tongue and flicked it over my breasts and chest, making me gasp, and her smile, even more. The forked tentacle wriggled down over my belly, which tickled like crazy, then up and down both inner thighs, making me whine and squirm with frustration and need. I love having my inner thighs licked and kissed, and wondered how she knew that. Well, obviously because this was my sex dream. I could see Bo standing nearby, naked and very visibly aroused, watching us.  
  
Lizard girl used the tips of her tongue-forks to cruelly tease me up and down my slit as I made embarrassing noises, and finally slid them both in like fingers and used them to pull my lips apart. Just when I was seriously considering offering her my soul and my firstborn child, she went right ahead and plunged that wet, wiggling pink muscle deep inside me. All the way in.  
  
It was indescribable. Those twin tips, dancing against my walls and my sweet spot, probing every inch of me from the underside of my clit to the mouth of my womb...  
  
When I came this time, I couldn’t choke back the hysterics. I screamed like a train whistle and spazzed so hard I thought I’d wrench both my shoulders out of their sockets.

And then I looked around and realized I wasn’t upstairs tied to the bed, after all. Still on the couch, in the living room.

I had to shake my head a few times to clear it. Naomi and Bo were still going at it upstairs, as enthusiastic and loud as ever. These Fae were fucking insatiable!  
  
And so was I, apparently. I must have fallen asleep, but I was still having little hiccuppy aftershocks, so I guess I popped my cork in my sleep and woke myself up. Damn. I haven't had a wet dream since I was, like, fifteen. I sat there and just breathed for a couple of minutes, until my knees stopped shaking, and then...  
  
Just at that moment, Naomi let out the loudest orgasm-scream I’d ever heard, in or out of a porno. It was almost scary. She didn’t even sound human. Well, she wasn’t, after all. What could do that to a woman? Bo Mojo, I guess. Bojo.  
  
...And then I was back at it, this time imagining I was the one on top, and Bo was the one tied up naked and helpless underneath me. I looked into her eyes and saw nothing but encouragement there.  
  
“Damn,” I said to Fantasy-Bo. “I knew you wanted my hot ass. But how could I possibly satisfy you? You’re a succubus, a magic sex machine, and I’ve never even been with a woman before. In real life, at least.”  
  
“You could satisfy me  _because_ you’ve never been with a woman before, and I’m the one you chose to be your first. That’s the sexiest thing I can even imagine. And believe me, I imagine a lot.”  
  
“But this is only a daydream. I’m actually sitting down on the sofa having an epic wank-fest, listening to you and Naomi get off.”  
  
“ _Ooooo_ kay, and that's the second sexiest thing I can imagine. It’s not a hard thing for Dreamland Kenzi to figure out, though, is it? I’m bi, I have a nuclear-powered libido, I live with you, and you’re cute as hell. But if you’re gonna be an obtuse bitch...” She grinned up at me wickedly.  
  
“Who are you calling an obtuse bitch, bitch?” On impulse, I jumped on Bo’s belly, straddling her, and started tickling both her underarms without much thought of mercy. Being tied up, she was of course helpless to resist or escape. I let my fingertips dance against her sweaty razor stubble. (Uh, it was a lot sexier than that sounds.)  
  
She shrieked with laughter and her whole body arched off the bed, lifting me right up off it.  
  
“Hey,” I told her brightly, still tickling. “It’s just like riding a mechanical bull, only warmer and softer and more squirmy. You have some nice muscle tone in your tum-tum. Guess I’ll have to tickle that next.”  
  
“ _Please... please... stop... I’ll do anything..._ ” she gasped, tears flooding down the sides of her face.  
  
“Anything? Oh, that was a dangerous thing to promise.”  
  
 _“I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it! Oh, God...”_  
  
“You’d be amazed what you can stand when you have no choice.” I finally took my fingers out of her armpits, and she collapsed back down on the sheets, wheezing and panting like a dog.  
  
“Now, what should I make you do to fulfill your promise?” I mused aloud.  
  
“Come in her mouth,” suggested Naomi, who had been standing there watching us the whole time.  
  
“Beg pardon?”  
  
“Shoot a creamy load right in her hot little succubus mouth, and make her swallow every drop.”  
  
I turned to look at her. She was standing there, knees together, hands folded politely behind her back.  
  
“Look, I appreciate your devotion to kink, but... no penis. And I don’t think even my sexual imagination is that good.”  
  
“Not jizz,” she said. “Chi. Let her suck just the tiniest bit out of you. You’re human, so it’ll leave you weak and dizzy and maybe unconscious for a few seconds, but it will be the most amazing thing you’ve ever felt. For Bo, too. She won't kill you. She's learned enough control now. Well, she still slips a little when she has an orgasm, but you'll be okay. And that little tang of danger? Much better than plain old bondage. It'll feel crazy awesome.”  
  
“Better than the things you did to me with that tongue?”  
  
She let the organ in question flicker out of her mouth for a moment. “Much better. Because I don’t love you, but Bo does.”  
  
“Get outta here.”  
  
“I’m not here to begin with. Wank fantasy, remember?”  
  
I sighed, and turned back to my bondage-babe roomie, who seemed not to have heard my and Naomi's conversation.  
  
“Suck me, Bo.”  
  
She grinned. “Should I start with the right or the left?”  
  
“Not my nips. Well, not yet anyway. My soul.”  
  
Her smile disappeared. “No, Kenzi, it’s too dangerous. I could really hurt you if I lose control.”  
  
“Then don’t lose control. Besides, you’re awfully concerned for a figment of my masturbation fantasy. What the hell, did I roofie myself earlier tonight or something? This is awfully vivid.”  
  
“It’s a bad idea. It’s like doing drugs. Feels really good, but then you just want more and more, and eventually you take a step too far and there’s no going back. I can’t put you back together if I accidentally pull you apart, Kenz.”  
  
“This isn’t drugs, Bo-dacious, this is you. It’s what you are. And what you are is in love with me, and what I am is in love with you.”  
  
Um, did I just say that?  
  
She didn’t reply.  
  
“Bo,” I prodded her, smiling. “Do you want the tickling to start again?”  
  
She set her jaw stubbornly. “Your fingers will get tired sooner or later.”  
  
“Then I guess we’ll just have to cut to the chase. You’d like to boink me, right, if you could do it without hurting me?”  
  
She blinked. “Wouldn’t say no, honestly.”  
  
“That’s all I needed to hear. Because life is but a dream, baby. This life, anyway.” I climbed off her, reached down between her legs and plunged my middle finger right up her hoo-ha.  
  
She gasped, went wide-eyed, and her head and shoulders lurched up off the pillow. I grabbed the back of her head with my free hand and kissed her mouth, hard.  
  
I heard a singing sound in my ears, like a teakettle whistling, and my skull felt like it was filling up with hot water. I felt something come up my throat and pass out of my mouth and nostrils into hers. Her eyes glowed blue, and then I died.  
  
Died of pleasure, that is. I felt like I was falling through space, with Bo. Very much with her. As far as I could tell, we were both sharing one body, and that body was capable of feeling things way beyond what mine could feel on its own. It was like somebody had switched on the sun inside my (our?) head. The brightness was incredible, but it couldn’t continue for long or it would burn us up.  
  
Just in the nick of time, I felt my body lurch and found myself back in Bo’s bed. I was shivering and shaking like a leaf, every inch of my body drenched in cold sweat, and I was too weak to lift even my head off the mattress. “Shit,” I whispered. “Oh, shit.”  
  
I managed to move my head enough to look at Bo, still tied up beside me. She made no sound, Just stared at the ceiling with glassy eyes, her mouth open, her body trembling and twitching. She was still lost deep in the world of ecstasy we’d created together. Obviously, she was equipped to endure it longer than I was.  
  
“That looked like fun,” said Naomi.  
  
“This isn’t real,” I whispered hoarsely.  
  
“Nope. But it can be. All you have to do is want it, and put away the fear. Both of you.” She walked over and crouched down by the bed next to me. “A lot of succubi are rapists and psychos. I’ve never heard of one being in love with someone before. I’m just suggesting the two of you don’t throw away this chance. To be honest it won’t be this intense when you let her feed on you, carefully, in real life. This was just a dream metaphor. But it will be amazing, and once you’ve experienced it you’ll never stop wanting it, and wanting her, even if you keep it way in the back of your mind. Even if you’re still Little Miss Straight-As-An-Arrow.”  
  
She stood up. “And just for future reference, she’s incredibly sensitive in that little spot between her vulva and butthole. Even a standard-issue human tongue will send her to la-la land if you tickle her there with it. Just saying.” Then she turned around and sashayed out the door.  
  
“Damn,” I murmured drunkenly. “That is one fine green Salamander ass. You rock.”  
  
“Thanks,” she said over her shoulder. “You rock too.”  
  
And then I was walking back and forth along a really nice, upscale indoor shopping mall. All the stores were full of awesome stuff, but it never occurred to me to yoink anything, for some reason. In the center court, a twelve-foot-tall white-furred abominable snowman was reading to a group of children sitting cross-legged in front of him. I thought that was a nice thing for an abominable snowman to do.  
  
*    *    *    *    *  
  
I woke up the next morning, still on the sofa, and groaned in protest as I opened my eyes to the harsh light of day. Bo and Naomi were both standing there, looking down at me and grinning. Naomi was back in the clothes she’d arrived in last night, and Bo was wearing her shorty-short blue bathrobe.  
  
“Sleeping beauty awakes,” Bo said.  
  
“Snoring beauty,” Naomi added.  
  
“What the hell is with you two?” I asked, still bleary. And then I looked down at myself.  
  
Yep, I’d fallen asleep without pulling my pants back up first.  
  
“Awesome,” I muttered under my breath. With as much dignity as I could muster – which was none – I hauled up my thong and jeans and put everything away back where it belonged while those two creatures of mythology watched, smirking.  
  
“Took in our performance last night, did you?” Bo cracked. Great, she wasn’t gonna let it go.  
  
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I pouted. “You two spent the night scrapbooking, didn't you?”  
  
“I like it when people enjoy my shows,” Naomi observed. “Kenzi, you have such long, beautiful legs. Are you a dancer?”  
  
I sighed. “No. Thief. Deceased.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“I died of embarrassment about thirty seconds ago. You’re talking to my ghost.”  
  
“Embarrassment? What’s that?” She favored me with a dazzling smile.  
  
“Naomi was just telling me she’s performing every night next week at the Euryale,” Bo said. “Only one show per night, but what a show. Wanna come with me and see one?”  
  
“Yes,” Naomi jumped in enthusiastically. “Come and see the arousing wonders of _Ssslither, Mistress of Fire!_ ” She pumped her fist straight up in the air and shot a big gout of flame out of it toward the (fortunately) high ceiling.  
  
 _“What the fuck?”_  I yelped, and ran to get the fire extinguisher out of the kitchen. But Bo and Naomi both stood there and laughed their asses off.  
  
“What the fuck?” I repeated more calmly, standing there like an idiot.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Bo said between giggles. “I didn’t tell you about Salamanders. They’re fire Fae.”  
  
I continued to stand there, looking more idiotic by the second.  
  
“We generate fire from our bodies,” Naomi explained. “Since we’re cold-blooded, it’s how we warm ourselves. Well, _one_ of the ways we warm ourselves." She smiled sidelong at Bo. "It also looks way cool. It’s part of my act.”  
  
“When Naomi and I met last night,” Bo said, “She was onstage, stark naked, doing a pole dance while completely engulfed in flames. There was a semicircle of floor-to-ceiling mirrors behind her. It was awesome. She noticed me in the audience, started chatting me up, and by the time she was done with her act I’d asked her to come home with me.”  
  
“Wait,” I said, “how did she chat you up if she was in the middle of her act?”  
  
“Oh. I also forgot to mention that Salamanders are very telepathic. She just skipped right into my mind and said hello. It was weird at first, but it was also really hot.”  
  
“Literally,” Naomi added.  
  
“ _Telepathic_ , eh?” I send Lizard Girl a narrow-eyed glare.  
  
She fluttered her lashes at me with mock innocence.  
  
“Well, I’ve gotta run,” she said. “Better put my human disguise on, since it’s broad daylight.” She shimmered for a moment, and suddenly her skin was a rich caramel tan, she had a full head of golden-blonde hair, and her eyes were of the normal human variety. Brown.  
  
“There,” she said. “Much less likely to freak out the mundies. I hope to see you two soon. And I hope to see much more of you, Kenzi.”  
  
“Don’t know if there’s much of me you haven’t seen already,” I said. “Inside or out.”  
  
“You’d be surprised. Listening to the soundtrack is fun, but it would be a lot better to star in the movie, wouldn’t it?” She winked at me, and then she was out the door.  
  
“She’s wearing Jessica Simpson’s body, isn’t she?” I asked Bo. “ _Dukes of Hazzard_ era, if I'm not mistaken. So she's like a shapechanger, too? Sexy snake goddess by night, Daisy Duke by day?”  
  
“No, she really still looks the same as usual. That's just her telepathy at work again, making you see what she wants you to see. It only works on humans. Like some kind of Jedi mind trick, I guess.”  
  
Bo leaned back against the kitchen counter and gave a happy sigh. “Last night,” she said, “was even better than it sounded.”  
  
“Bo,” I said, “the time may come, sooner or later, when I start a really weird conversation with you. Promise me you won’t freak out when I do.”  
  
“Hmmm, I promise. But what exactly are you talking about?”  
  
“Nothing, yet. And for God’s sake, put on some clothes. Your thighs are supernaturally distracting.”  
  
“Look who’s talking,” she said with a grin, and spun around to head up the stairs, giving me a brief but full view of her creamy bare succubus buns as she did.  
  
“I’m not gonna survive this,” I muttered. “But I’m gonna die with an idiotic smile on my face.”

 


End file.
